Lachlan’s expression betrayed nothing, but he knew the king had guessed what had brought him back. “My plans changed.”
Bruce wasn’t fooled. “You look like hell. You might want to shave and clean up before you see Lady Isabella.”
Lachlan stiffened at the mention of her name. “Why would I do that?”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “I assumed it was for her that you went to Berwick.” He slammed his goblet down and leaned across the table, all pretense of equanimity gone. “Damn it, Viper, I’d have thought you would have learned your lesson. I told you to lie low and stay clear of danger for a while, which doesn’t include going on some rogue mission of vengeance, no matter how well warranted. To bloody England again?”
Lachlan’s mouth curved into a sly smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that a half-dozen men were killed in a strange attack at Berwick Castle a few weeks ago, including Bella’s former jailor, who was found naked and hanging from the cage where she was kept.”
He shrugged unrepentantly. “Sounds like divine justice to me.”
“Don’t you mean Highland justice?” Bruce scowled. “But how the hell did you get him to walk up there—” He stopped himself. “Never mind, I don’t think I want to know.” Bruce took another swig from his goblet. “You are lucky I still intend to uphold my side of our deal.”
This time it was Lachlan who leaned over the table. “What are you talking about? I’ve kept my side of the bargain.”
“Have you?” Bruce quirked a brow in challenge. “You agreed to be my man for three years, which means following orders. Something you seem to have a problem doing.”
“I don’t recall any orders.”
Bruce’s mouth thinned into a tight line. “You are trying my patience, Viper. Let me be perfectly clear: I don’t want you anywhere near England or the Marches for a long time. I won’t have the identities of my men jeopardized for any reason. Even a good one. Do you understand?”
“My service is finished,” Lachlan pointed out. He didn’t have to follow anyone’s orders.
“Almost finished,” Bruce corrected. “The council meeting isn’t for another week.”
Lachlan’s jaw clenched.
“And I am still your king.” Bruce sank back in his chair, with the generous smile of a man who’d won his point. “Don’t worry, you will have your money and your island soon enough. Though what you’re going to do with it all alone in the middle of nowhere, I don’t know.”
“Nothing,” Lachlan said. That was the point, wasn’t it? Peace. Solitude. No one to answer to. No one to be responsible for. A place to call his own. It sounded like heaven.
Didn’t it?
His chest burned tighter.
She would expect him to stay. To fight. To bind himself to her and the cause. But he didn’t believe in anything, damn it. She expected too damned much. She didn’t even know what she wanted from him. Maybe nothing.
Damn it, why the hell was he thinking about this?
“Will you stay for Templar’s wedding?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“He’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Surprisingly, Lachlan wanted to, but in some ways he suspected it would be easier if he didn’t. A clean break was what he needed.
Wasn’t it?
“And what of Lady Isabella?”
Lachlan tensed almost imperceptibly. Almost, but he suspected the king had seen it. Still, he couldn’t prevent the anxious spike of his heartbeat. “She’s well?”
“Well enough.” A wry smile turned the king’s mouth. “Better than you, from the looks of it.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” At least he should be. But part of him had hoped…what, that she’d been suffering the way he had?
